YuGiOh! Duel Monsters 2: Odyssey of a King
by DarkScytheQueen
Summary: Sequel to 'Heirs to the Throne'. The 'Runaway' Game King, Yuuhi Mutou, the enemies who thwart him, the allies who support him, and his Odyssey to reclaim his birthright: The Throne of the King of Games. This is his story.
1. Chapter 1

**Copyright ownership of the canon characters of **_**Yu-Gi-Oh!: Duel Monsters**_** is claimed by Kazuki Takahashi and those with permission.**

**Here I present to you, the next installment of the **_**Yu-Gi-Oh!: Duel Monsters 2 **_**saga, **_**The Oddysey of a King**_

**o.O.o.O.o**

_**Rome, Italy; First Person POV**_

Italy, they say here is one of the most influential countries in the world. With its first-class culture, trend centers of fashion and cuisine and of course the Roman Catholic Church, here is a place that is in the know of what is happening around the world.

In both the good sense and the bad.

Few people don't know, or at least, have never heard of the Mafia. I myself don't know how it started, but rest assured, utter this word to anyone in Italy, or perhaps all over the world, and you'll be followed by stares, murmurs and gossip. At its first hearing, the word 'mafia' automatically associates to murder, plunder, guns, blood, what have you.

I guess with this said, I can begin.

It was raining that night, that memory stayed in my mind the most. Strange though, it was during that night I revealed something that would trigger a whole lot of other things for me and everyone I work with.

I remember the heavy raindrops pounding against the window, cascading against the heavily tinted glass. My companion and I were travelling off road, and even though he was driving, I was the one feeling most of the bumps.

"Hey, Are you sure it's this way?" I asked him. "I think I'm gonna be sick..."

"If you're gonna hurl then do it outside, I just re-apolstered this car." He replied, keeping his eyes up ahead. I don't understand why though, it was pitch black outside, and the headlights weren't doing much, we might as well have been driving blind.

After a few more minutes of rough driving, one of them involving having my head reach the ceiling because of a particularly hard bump, we finally reached our destination: a very out-of-the-way mansion on top of a hill in the Italian outskirts. You really can't see it right now, but I've been here once or twice before, and it is quite grand, if you ignore the numerous cracks in its handsome marble exterior.

As we drove into the grounds and rolled up to the (thankfully) covered entranceway, we were greeted by a line of men, all wearing black suits.

"Welcome. You are expected in the main lobby." They greeted, bowing as we came closer. It was the usual welcoming comittee of this household, so my and my companion weren't uncomfortable, but still the numerous scars on each of their faces sent chills up my spine as a scanned them on the way in.

Once inside the main lobby, the door was immediately closed behind is, drowning us in darkness for a moment until the large chandelier lit up, sending a yellow hue all around the room. In the right light, this place would've been marvelous. Gorgeous marble adorned the parts of wall not covered by luxourious oil paintings of people of the past, a fireplace off in the corner gleamed at me with bronze and brass ornaments, and the lush pearl white shag carpet masked my footsteps.

"You always like things flashy don't you...?" I asked into what little darkness remained.

My reply was a simple chuckle coming from my left, along with a smoothly drawled "_It's as if you don't know me at all..._"

We turned toward the voice, and there an ominous sight greeted us. In an ornate, plush, undoubtedly expensive wingback chair sat a short, portly man, flanked on either side by a couple of men in suits, armed with shotguns and rifles. The man in the chair was casually smoking a cigar, his ring-adorned hand grazing through his pearly white slicked back hair.

"It's been a while since I saw you last..." The man said, letting out a puff of smoke from his mouth as he rested his chin in his hand, observing the two visitors with a steel-grey stare. "What things have you to report...?"

That was when I stepped forward and opened my briefcase. "Something very interesting for you..."

Everyone kept silent as I took out a small Disc and placed into into an awaiting DVD player attached to a wide sceen. "I was finally able to get a small glimpse on what that Minister was talking about..."

Anticipation grew as the player loaded the disc. Most of it was coming from me, as the anxiety of knowing the guns are aimed directly at the back of my head made my entire body grow numb in the painfully long moment.

Finally, I let out a breath when I saw the screen flicker to life. I turned to my audience, shook off a few shivers and began to speak.

"Whilst on my trip to Japan, as I've said, I chanced upon a secret testing of the new 'weapon' that the Japanese were dropping clues to."

I waved my hand to the monitor, which was showing a barren desert, under a dim night sky, with the moon and stars the only illumination. From what the camera could provide, there stood a lone man, a scientist by the looks of the long coat waving in the night breeze, standing a long distance away from a massive armored tank.

"So, it's a tank. I don't see what all the ruckus is about..." Drawled the fat man in the wingback chair. Taking their cue, the two armed bodyguards readied their weapons.

"Wait!" I called panickedly. "The tank isn't the weapon!"

The guards relaxed their trigger fingers as the portly man leaned closer, putting out his cigar on a nearby ashtray that looked like it was made out of genuine ivory. "Then what is this new 'superweapon' that the Japanese have been boasting?"

I simply pointed to the sceen, and watched on as the scientist straightened his left arm towards the tank. In the moonlight, something metallic gleamed on the man's forearm, reflecting into the camera. At the camera angle, it was almost impossible to tell exactly what it was, but from what _was_ visible, it looked sort of like an axe blade strapped to his arm.

_"Test Firing, Prototype number 032, Heavy Armor Target." _The scientist declared, moving his free hard in a motion suggesting that he was loading the 'weapon'. "_In Three...Two...One..."_

What happened next happened in approximately ten seconds, according to the time interval on the DVD player. The 'weapon' started to activate, letting out an ominous '_whirr_' sound, before unleashing a blinding white flash that engulfed the camera, blanking the screen. Next came crackling of electricity, the telltale sound of something charging. Then, an earsplitting twinge of a laser discharge bleeped into the speakers, the sonic screech afterwards left the audience covering their ears.

When the screech subsided, the camera began to fade back to its normal picture. Little by little detail began to return to the screen, and what they saw left them speechless.

The scientist was lowering his arm, the 'weapon' now deactivated. In the distance, the tank was now a smoldering pile of superheated molten metal, sending a few arcs of electricity into the air.

The scientist calmly raised his free hand to what looked like a clip-on microphone connected to his stiff collar. "_Test Fire accomplished. Estimated Damage Inflicted 75-80 percent. Power Output required 70.20 percent. The SV2M is a success."_

At that the video ended, and I cleared my throat again.

"As you can see, the Japanese Prime Minister was serious when he said that he would '_make it so that war would never be the same again_'. With that superweapon at their disposal, no other country can stand a chance."

**o.O.o.O.o**

_**Las Vegas, Nevada, USA; Third Person POV **_

He always hated airports.

Or rather, he always hated places which gathered surplus amounts of noise, sometimes in more amounts that a building's capacity could possibly contain. Yet here he was, stuck in the bench filled lobby of the Las Vegas airport, seated in one of the benches, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. Why was he here? Well, like all other things that a man would do against his usual personality, it was all for a woman.

In fact, this particular woman was coming up to him right now, with a bright smile painted on her tanned lips.

"It's finally here!" She half-exclaimed, bounding up to him like an overly-compressed slinky toy. "His plane is about to touch down!"

She grabbed the light purple handbag next to him and excitedly raced toward the large, floor-length window facing the asphalt tarmac. "Well, are you get off your butt or not, Preston?"

Rolling his grape-like eyes, he reluctantly rose out of his seat and moved over to her side, looking up at the horizon. "Where's his plane anyway?"

Lavander eyes followed their dark purple companions skyward. "There it is!" She exclaimed, her jewelry-adorned hand raised, pointing at a small black dot against the bright blue.

"Why'd you have to drag me along for this again?" Preston drawled, running his hand along his golden-blond hair.

"Come on! My dad's at his meeting and the driver's off-duty. I didn't have anyone to take me to the airport!" The girl whined, her lavander eyes looking up at her companion's lean, shy-six foot frame through silvery-blond bangs.

"What am I, your motorbike monkey?"

"Yes, Preston J. Atlas, that's what you are."

Before Preston could let loose his retort, the PA system let out a chime.

"_**Private Flight 6052, from Domino City, Japan now landing at Gate 12.**_"

Almost on cue, the girl bolted down the length of the airport lobby, racing toward Gate 12 like her life depended on it.

"Wait a sec, Imaru!" Preston called out, before reluctantly running after her.

**o.O.o.O.o**

_**At Gate 12, Preston's POV**_

I let out a sigh as Imaru almost literally bounced her way up to the gate, watching the private plane land. I held back a little, leaning against a post nearby her.

We're neighbors, her and I. She was just across from my house, living in a large luxury estate in a well-to-do subdivision. My house was big,but nowhere near hers. Me and my father, a computer technician stationed in Italy, moved in when I was around 7 or 8, and both Mark and Imaru were my first friends. We go to the same high school, but she's a Sophomore where I'm a Senior already. We've been friends for a long time now, so naturally, I already knew why she was so excited.

There weren't a lot of times wherein she was separated from her brother Mark for long. Even during last year's Cyber Games, they entered together, usually played near each other, heck she was even on stage with him when Mark was crowned.

I smiled to myself. Heh, Imaru was really tight with her brother, and anyone else she looked up to like a brother. It's probably why she keeps hanging out with me. My friends say that she has a crush on me, and often tease me about it. But as I keep telling them, I already have a girlfriend, Melanie Valentine. You can tell by her name she's a great find: rich, but not snobby, fun-loving, drop _dead _gorgeous...what more can a guy want?

"Preston..._Preston_!" I heard Imaru call me. "He's getting off!"

"Alright, alright." I retorted getting off my post and striding up to her. Scanning the long hallway leading off to the plane's dock, I kept a lookout for a very large, very overgelled head of silvery blonde hair, not unlike guys from that very old anime, Dragon...something. Sure enough, I spotted that head, mingled in with a few other people.

"Imaru..." I began, tapping her on the shoulder. "Who're those guys...?"

Imaru stopped bouncing and looked up at me with those round lavander eyes. "Oh, this year's Cyber Games is supposed to be a Team Version, so the Director had Mark scout out for some teammates in Japan."

"Why Japan...?"

"I dunno, Japan has a good rep for producing Gamers?"

I snorted in response to that. True, the Japanese have always had a knack for being superior when it came to anything technologic. Half of the previous Cyber Games Champions have been, or have had some Japanese descent. Also, it has been rumored that the _Titan _could have also had Japanese blood. It didn't really matter to me though. I myself am about 75 percent Italian, and the only game I can call my forte is Tekken, so good in fact that my friends call me 'Paul-minus-the-hair-gel'.

"Mark! Over here!" I called to him, waving an arm. The silvery-blond hard began twisting around before it stopped in my direction.

"Imaru, Pres! Glad you guys could make it!" Mark called running over to us, a little awkwardly since he was still carrying his luggage.

"Of course...Imaru couldn't wait, and I'm her little motorbike monkey." I replied hotly, sending the aforementioned girl a mock glare, which was replied to by a sharp elbow into my ribcage. "By the way, Mark..." I added hastily, massaging my chest. "Who're your friends?"

The silver-haired American turned around and called them closer to us. "Well, these are gonna be my teammates for this year. Oh, and you're not gonna believe this, one of them's actually--"

Mark was interrupted by a particularly loud growl coming from his midsection. "Uh, can we discuss this later after some grub? We can all have a get together and we can discuss there."

I looked back to the (were there 8 of them?) people still in the hallway, talking amongst themselves in Japanese. "This was going to be a very _long _talk..." I groaned softly.

**o.O.o.O.o**

**Like I said, please enjoy this new story and Saga, which I will make sure is more exciting than the last.**

**Until next update!**


	2. Interlude to Beginning

**Disclaimer:**** The authoress claims no ownership on the canon characters of '**_**Yu-Gi-Oh!**_**'**

**Ownership resides with Kazuki Takahashi and those with permission.**

**o.O.o.O.o**

_**Domino City, Japan**_

What I do is probably very important, but I wouldn't know for sure.

Why? Because it's very top secret and the public cannot know about it.

Not yet anyway.

Not even I know what I'm doing from time to time, but I don't mind it. As long as I am doing something that can benefit the world in a way…even if it's a small way, I'd be glad to do it.

It was another regular day for me…if by regular you mean riding in an elevator down ten levels into a secret laboratory under the Kaiba Corp. Headquarters, carrying a large load of reports, blueprints and the like under one arm, and a hot cup of coffee in my free hand. To regular people, I would look like a much hassled young man. But the truth is that I can name ten other people more hassled than I am, and nine of them are my colleagues.

The silvery elevator doors slid open, a chime sounding off somewhere above me. Trying to manage all of the objects in my grasp, I stumbled out the door and looked for the closest table in my vicinity, which was my work station. I unceremoniously dumped it all unto the table in said station, before taking a very long swig of coffee. It really didn't matter to me how hot it was. I love hot drinks, especially in the constantly freezing laboratory.

"Who's there?" Someone called out from the neighboring station before someone poked their head over the divider. He was more than twice my age, judging from his fine, silvery gray hair and bald spot on the back of his head; my colleague and senior by ten years, Professor Kaine Bailer. He looked around wildly, searching for the source of the disturbance. When his steely stare finally found me, he furrowed his already wrinkled brow. "Kousei?" He asked in English as he squinted through his gray eyes. "Is that you?"

"Yes sir." I replied in the same language, after downing the last of my coffee. "I just arrived. Sorry to disturb you."

I saw Bailer look down for something and put on a pair of gold-rimmed square bifocals. Its lenses were so thick they could be confused for magnifying glasses. "Ah, I knew it was you, even without my glasses." He replied with a warm smile. "That hair of yours is a dead giveaway!"

I shrugged in reply, looking up at the thick black locks that almost covered the right side of my face. He was right, actually. I had pitch black hair which flared out at the back of my head, with four large spikes, two on either side of my head pointing upwards.

"Have you been here long, Professor?" I asked, setting my attention to arranging my station. Mine was probably the messiest out of the scientists here. Papers strewn about everywhere, cups of every make, be it paper, Styrofoam or plastic, filled the trash can to the brim; pens, pencils and the occasional ruler dotted every possible corner of my desk, and a small deck of Duel Monsters Cards tucked away in the corner, probably the only neat part of my entire station.

"Not at all; I've been here working on the wirings for all of thirty minutes." He turned back to his work as I started mine. "What about you, Kousei? Been here long?"

"No sir, I just came in. This contraption had me up all night."

Back at my apartment complex, I had been working on a small device that would further ease the energy consumption of a 'Project' that my employer was working on. I had made progress, but only around two or three percent. My employer wouldn't tell me the details, but he had told me that this 'Project' was for the benefit of the greater good, and that was enough for me.

Why would I do such a thing for such a person? I was born to a poor family, you see. I would only see my father on holidays because he had to work overseas. My mother would work at a store whilst I was at a local elementary school. When I graduated from junior high, I was lucky enough to be accepted for a scholarship at Tokyo University. Once there, I was able to graduate _Magna Cum Laude_, in a batch three years older than me. So, because of my 'rags-to-riches' back story, any chance to do something 'for the greater good' would mean a lot to me.

I was about to resume what I had done back at my apartment when Prof. Bailer called me again.

"Kousei, I think the boss is calling you on the PA."

I focused my blue-green eyes to the speaker system mounted over the elevator, and sure enough…

"_Prof. Kousei Fudo please report to my office immediately._"

**o.O.o.O.o**

After they were greeted by Mark's sister and her friend, they had wait for a larger capacity mode of transportation to arrive. Though Preston's motorcycle had a roomy sidecar, it could only fit a couple of people, and with 5 people added, there was no way they would all fit. As of now, it had been two hours since then, and they were waiting outside the airport facing the driveway.

"I _did _say that I was bringing my team along, Imaru…" Mark commented bluntly, casting his patented '_I told you so_' stare at his irritated sister.

"You didn't say _how many _you were bringing along!" Imaru retorted, retaliating with her '_Try and tick me off_' eye twitch.

Preston just rolled his eyes. '_Twins with a capital T._' He thought, lazily watching them bicker. Searching for something else to hold his focus, it was just now the purple-eyed blond realized something.

"Hey, didn't you guys have a bunch of other people with you?" He asked the person seated next to him, Yuuhi, in confusion.

Nonchalantly, Yuuhi raised his arms behind his head and let out a stifled yawn. "Oh them…_hn_, they're headed back to Japan, you don't have to worry about it."

The ponytailed teen watched as his conversant nodded and leaned against the wall. That was a complete lie, of course. In reality, they were right there in front of him, it was just that the ancient spirit that was with them was able to make them invisible to everyone except those that were on the plane (though how he did that he really didn't want to know) and bid them not to tell anyone else of it. It really didn't matter to Yuuhi anyway.

A honk from further down the road alerted them that their ride had arrived. As expected of the Cyber Games Champion, a silver-inlaid stretch limo had pulled up into the driveway. The tall blond, seeing the limo come up the driveway, bid the twins farewell and strode back to his motorcycle, saying something about being back before his dad.

"Why a limo?" Mark asked his sister, who shrugged in reply.

"Dunno…all I asked for was a car to pick us up…"

The black limo positioned itself in front of the assembled crowd and the rear door automatically opened. Inside was the typical stylish black leather seats arranged in a wide semi circle that a high-end stretch limousine was known for, including a few console games attached to a flat screen TV mounted in the center of said circle.

"I take it you don't want to be away from video games, Mark?" Riku commented slyly as he boarded the limo, earning him a knowing chuckle in reply.

While the others were piling into the stretch limo, one young man hung back among the shaded pillars of the airport entrance.

"So, how're we gonna do this?" Yuuhi whispered, his stern eyes shifting all around him. Hidden in the shadows, the preceding generation, forms translucent, silently stood like the very pillars that hid them.

"_Whoa, this is cool…_" Jonouchi commented childishly, staring through his ghost-like hands. "_This is both awesome and creepy at the same time._"

"_Since we aren't affected by the weather while we're like this…_" Yuugi continued while Jonouchi proceeded to play around. "_I think it would be okay to ride on top of the limo._"

"_Wouldn't that be dangerous…?_" Ryou asked with a frightened tone.

"_We won't be harmed in any way._" Atemu assured them all.

Choosing this moment to speak, Seto emerged from inside one of the pillars (probably for some solace from the mundane chatting or Jonouchi's annoying antics) and effectively gave Jonouchi a scare. "_Well hurry up, they're leaving._"

As soon as Yuuhi got into the limo, the others, discreetly noticed by their offspring, climbed up on top of the trunk and made themselves comfortable. It was after Yuuhi looked away from them that he briefly took notice of the driver, who was conversing with both Mark and Imaru.

He scanned the man over. His heavily tattooed face (a leftover from a rebellious teen hood, maybe?) was his most obvious trait. Other than that, he was also semi-bald, with a long graying ponytail at the back, deeply tanned (either sun-baked or of African descent) and highly built (perhaps he doubled as the family bodyguard?). He also had a solemn look about his stern, chiseled features. The way he addressed Mark and Imaru while they were talking (Young Lord & Young Lady, respectively) suggested he was highly loyal.

"I can never get him to drop the 'Lord' part…" He overheard Mark comment as the boy slumped back into the seat. "Quite frankly, it's a little embarrassing."

"Hn… reminds me of Isono." Sanryo had commented with a smile. "Sometimes I think he confuses me with my father."

Yuuhi didn't hear any more of that, as he had settled into the seat's plush cushions and dozed off.

**o.O.o.O.o**

_The clock chimed midnight. _

_The wind howled with ominous pitch. _

_Shadows lurked in every corner of the long moonlit corridor he was in._

_Everywhere he would glance, the inky black masses would flaunt themselves right before his very eyes, teasing him, daring him, inviting him to join them… _

_He continued on, each and every step he made revealed his deeply restrained fear, despite what his composed face and posture was suggesting. 'This is __**not **__going to get to me…' he vowed to himself, continuing on. His eyes darted after the ever fleeting forms of the night, and narrowed as he watched with a sickened glare as the intimidating, yet alluring shadows danced for him._

_The corridor by itself was not that imposing. Simple, bare walls on his left side; an old, tiled floor extending as far— or even farther—than his eyes could see; the wall to his right faced the moon, its light let in by plain glass windows._

_Undaunted, he continued on and eventually ignored the wind serenading him with its mournful sighs and wails. After what seemed like forever, he had come to the end of his lonely path, and stopped in front of a large, steel, riveted door. _

_With his right hand in his pocket, he reached toward the door's old fashioned, lever handle with his left. But, as soon as the fingers were inches away from the steel handle, a gravely saddened feeling enveloped him._

'_**You know what is waiting for you behind this door, do you not?**__' a voice asked from nowhere, with a solemn and regal air._

"_Of course I do." He replied, his voice stern and determined. Yet inwardly, within the darkest depths of his mind, he was unsure. He was even unaware of why he is in this corridor, why he is about to open this door, and why he has to lie about not knowing. It was quite peculiar. It was as if whatever is behind his door is calling him—no, luring him, to enter…to set it free…_

'_**You lie. You have no idea what is within.**__' The voice breathed, its tone rising in anger. '__**You dare to deceive me!?**__'_

"_You've caught me." He replied, a minute grin across his thin lips. "But I don't care. I will open this door, whether you permit me to or not."_

'_**Brave soul…I applaud your gallantry and courage.**__' _

_The shadows around, like animals of the night in a flashlight's beam, retreated to the depths where they originated, leaving him completely alone, bathed in the light of the full moon. His grip remained firmly on the handle, even as a smooth, melodic, distant voice whispered into his ear._

'_**But that gallantry may lead to your demise.**__'_

_At that moment, everything turned blood red. The shadows had returned…with a vengeance. They had taken on a life of their own, gripping to his feet as if a man dangling off a cliff. They climbed up his legs whilst a force from within the seeping black mass dragged him down. Like black quicksand, he sank deeper and deeper. But his face remained solemn; he closed his eyes and accepted his fate…_

**o.O.o.O.o**

His consciousness resurfaced, but his eyes remained closed, hoping to fall back to sleep. He could feel the motions of the car through the upholstery, and deduced that they were still on the road. The banter from before had quieted somewhat, a relief on his part. Though the conversation was interesting, considering the tone of those talking, he wanted no part of it. He wasn't much of a talker anyway.

Meanwhile, Mark and Imaru, for once completely silent, looked on at the conversing trio.

"_Hey…_" Imaru whispered into her brother's ear, her eyes sparking a strange mix of curiosity and awkwardness. "_Do you have any idea what they're saying…?_"

"_Not a clue._" Her brother replied, discreetly gawking at Sanryo, Kabuto and Riku chatting away in rapid Japanese. "_I knew I should've taken that foreign language class back in summer school…_"

"_I feel like I'm watching an anime…_"

It was then that Riku noticed the stares that he was getting from the twins. He held his hand to stop the conversation, and turned to the silver-blond duo. "_Gomenasai…_Sorry 'bout that." He began, scratching the back of his head. "We were just talking about last year's Cyber Games." He then turned to Mark, strange spark appearing in his eyes. "Your best game is _Ragnarok Online: Guild Siege_, isn't it?" He asked, a sly grin appearing on his lips.

Mark cast a cocky smirk to the Japanese trio. "Oh yeah…I haven't been beaten there the entire of the Cyber Games!" He declared gloatingly. "Why do you ask…?"

Riku gave him a devilish grin in reply. This is going to be fun. Though in hindsight, _Guild Siege _is completely different from _PVP _even though they are both from the same game, a good player is a good player, and Riku wanted a challenge. "Feel like taking me on in PVP?"

Whatever reaction Riku wanted from the tanned American, it wasn't what he got. Mark's eyes twinkled with fervor, and he cast a grin back. "Sure…only if _you _take _me _on in a one-on-one _Guild War._"

It would seem this sparked a bit of a war against the Japanese vs. an American champion. As the conversation grew, it turned out that Riku, Kabuto and Sanryo were chatting amongst themselves if Mark could handle them all in their respective games. Mark, being the Cyber Games champion and all, hotly told them all '_any time, any place, __**any game.**__ Just __**bring it!**_'

This all could've gone on all the way to the twins' mansion, hadn't one innocent move of someone's hand shift around 50 percent of the owner's body weight onto Yuuhi's exposed left arm.

An aggressive yelp and a string of harsh obscurities exploded from the young man's mouth as he sprang up from his slumped over position in a fit of rage.

"_Who the hell just did that?!_" He snapped, glaring daggers at the others. No surprise from the reactions he got. Imaru even shrunk back and clung to her brother's arm protectively, scared stiff.

"Whoa, calm down…" Mark began, holding up both his hand defensively, doing his best to stay calm. "What's gotten into you?"

Yuuhi's burst of anger subsided fast. He slumped back into his seat, reflexively holding onto his left arm. His fingers quickly traced the hidden stitch marks he had all over his arm through his sleeve, checking for any rips. Finding none, he now had to deal with his 'audience'. "Just don't touch me, okay?" He growled, looking out the window.

The others gave each other suspicious looks. While the twins inched away from Yuuhi, Kabuto pushed his glasses up his nose and caught Sanryo's attention. "_He's been doing that a lot…_" He whispered to the brunet covertly in Japanese, not wanting any attention.

"_Instinctively touching his left arm?_" Sanryo asked back in the same language, looking at the blonde through the corners of his eyes. "_You've noticed as well?_"

"_Indeed._"

The two remained silent for a minute, casting Yuuhi calculative gazes that went unnoticed, or at least unheeded by their subject. When Yuuhi shifted his position a bit, the two saw a tiny sliver of one of his stitches on his wrist.

"_This requires further investigation._" They both declared.

**o.O.o.O.o**

The roar of an engine quieted down as a lone rider shut off his motorcycle in front of a classy looking house in a subtly-lit subdivision. A few houses were seen in the streetlights, spaced by luxurious, expansive lawns, occasionally dotted by swing sets, benches, and assorted lawn-ornaments like the infamous lawn gnomes. The rider removed his helmet, scanning the area with worrying anxiety. The lawn gnomes' coal black eyes glinted in the moon's light, giving him a sense that there were millions of witnesses casting him stern, piercing looks.

Shaking off the feelings, he swung his leg off his ride, hugging himself to counteract the cold night air. He tossed his head to the side to see a sleek black SUV parked on the inclined driveway leading up to their house. "Guess he's home…" the rider commented. He ascended the steps with no other incident, hastily grabbing the key ring he had hung from his belt loop with a carabiner.

The door creaked open and the rider slipped inside, trying as much as possible not to make a sound. He crept past living room and made his way to his own room, passing by a small home office that had the door ajar and the light inside making a thin crack on the opposite wall. The rider effortlessly walked past the sliver of light, but something must have given him away.

"_Preston…_?" Someone called from inside. The calling voice was weary, perhaps tainted with sleep and exhaustion. "_That you…?_"

Preston Atlas poked his head into the home office. His father was there, still in his office clothes, albeit he shirt was unbuttoned halfway, the tie and coat he was wearing discarded onto the nearby coat rack next to the door. His grey eyes were sleepily scanning the numerous mounds of paperwork scattered across his desk.

"Dad, shouldn't you hit the sack?" Preston asked worryingly. "I mean, you just came back from Italy today right?"

"_Non __preoccuparsi__ di me._" His father replied. "You just get to sleep."

Reluctantly heeding his father's words not to worry, the blond shrugged and left the room. A few moments of shifting from one paper to another, the man's grey eyes finally looked up at the ceiling, letting out a long yawn. Preston's father ran a hand through his graying blond hair as he cast aside the folder he was scanning, massaging his temples with his free hand.

"_Spiacente, _Preston_._" He mumbled, leaning back in his plush computer chair. "Sorry but I can't seem to sleep tonight."

He gazed down at the numerous documents. Strangely, though there were on American soil and the family of two was obviously of Italian descent, all of the official-looking papers strewn about the desk were in Japanese text, and heavily encrypted as a matter of fact. The elderly man looked down at a notebook he was working on, reading intently his progress in both decoding the encryption and manually translating the Japanese text into Italian and again into English.

"This is giving me a migraine even with my state-of-the-art decryption and translation…" He moaned, casting the notebook aside and resting his head in his arms. "Damn the Japanese government. If you hadn't decided to make that new weapon of yours, then my boss wouldn't be so interested and he wouldn't have dumped all the translation work onto me."

A moment of relaxing peace later, he looked up and stared at his work with a frustrated brow.

_Project Name: Unknown__  
Project Code: 'SV2M'__  
Project Classification: Weapon Research and Development__  
Project Status: Nearing Completion__  
Project Type: Highly Classified. Elite Few Personnel only._

_Notes:_

_New Weapon seems to be a highly-powerful personal use-type weapon. Power range is calculated to be able to decimate heavy armor targets (i.e. Tanks, Bomber Planes, etc.) in mere seconds. Based upon 'obtained' footage, weapon appears arm-mounted, and contains some sort of laser technology. _

_Anomalies:_

_No footage of the weapon actually being fired, as the footage either whites out or loses focus dramatically, suggesting that it affect cameras and surrounding technology. No footage of the weapon being used on a human analogue or on living subjects. Suggests that weapon is for tank or heavy-artillery destruction only. Within all 'obtained' footage, there is one recurring researcher. Suggests that it is headed only by one person. This researcher would also state the amount of damage and the amount of energy used. Energy used never reaches 100 percent. Suggests that there are still problems with energy consumption._

Another sigh escaped the man's lips. "What the _hell _is 'SV2M'?"

**o.O.o.O.o**

**And with that, this update is complete. Sorry for the extremely long wait, and if you want to know why, I'll explain below.**

**-/-**

**For the main reason why I was not able to update this for the past year, please take note of when this story was first published. The month of March is usually when summer vacation occurs in my country, and that year I was graduating from High School. The entire summer vacation was spent looking for a suitable college and appealing to said college for a full scholarship, which I was able to obtain.**

**Which leads me to my other reasons: in order to maintain my scholarship, my GPA cannot, under any circumstance, dip below 2.0, which is considered as a B+ in some other schools. This college also follows a trimestral calendar, and therefore all subjects should be complete and passed within a span of 14 weeks per term.**

**Thirdly was that because of my sometimes hectic schedule, it would've been the dead of night before I would return to my house, and I would be too exhausted to even turn on my computer, let alone write.**

**The only reason why I was able to update this now is because it is now the third term of my first year, and finally my schedule had normalized to a manageable state, and that I am now using a laptop which allowed me to create this chapter every free moment I had, including just walking to my classes. (I'd like to see you walk down nine floors carrying and typing into an open laptop with one hand.)**

**-/-**

**Now that my excuses have been said, I hope you had enjoyed this update and excuse my future hiatuses.**


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